


The Wonders

by Missy



Category: Gangs of New York (2002)
Genre: California, Childbirth, Cross-Country Moves, F/M, Post-Canon, Questions, Tentative Romance, moves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 10:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19392130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: They didn't know each other yet, not really.





	The Wonders

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Gangs of New York, Jenny & or / Amsterdam, I'm asleep on a shoulder that I never met

It was almost midnight when Jenny woke up, the painful rocks digging into her thighs reminding her that the hard comforts of New York had been exchanged for a different sort of pain.

Her back made an ugly popping noise as Jenny sat up and stretched. She ran her fingers through her messy hair and tried to get her bearings. She could still smell smoke from the small fire one of the camp men had built earlier in the evening – peering through the end of the tent, she could see a small number of people left in their party still sitting around, sipping whiskey, laughing. Someone was playing a fiddle low and soft. She had been living beside these people for almost six months and still barely remembered their names.

It was _quiet_. Jenny couldn’t reckon how unfathomably strange the difference was. Beside her, Amsterdam was sleeping, his hair freshly washed in a creek, wearing a shirt she’d laundered when they were fresh off the train. She was no longer in crowded New York, where there was always the sound of children shouting or men conspiring. And Jenny wasn’t entirely sure that she didn’t mind forgetting what it felt like.

But she didn’t have to scrimp and save for her meal – all of the supplies she and Amsterdam had paid for were holding throughout these early days of working the small claim they’d struck. They’d considered it all, talking in whispers after getting on the train, taking the quickest route out possible before all of the good parts were swallowed up, but tent living – at least in early summer - had been cheaper. And more scenic.

They both needed more scenery in their lives after what they’d been through.

She threw another look at Amsterdam before swinging her legs over the side of the bedroll and heading off to make use of the nearest tree. When she returned – bladder eased – she noticed that he hadn’t stirred at all.

Fondness and disgust warred in Jenny’s heart – as it always seemed to do when she saw Amsterdam. Part of her was amazed by how untroubled his slumbers could be. The man had nearly been killed by his father’s oldest enemy and his bloodthirsty gang; he had nearly died of cannon fire and brimstone in the middle of the Five Points. And yet he seemed to dream of nothing, his features relaxed of their occasional meanness. It made him look even more boyish than he did when he was awake.

It wasn’t that Jenny had nightmares. It was that she had flashes of memories, dragging her back to old cobblestone streets, the feeling of a silk lining brushing the tips of her fingers as she pulled a wallet free. Bill’s almost evil smile. The feeling of admiring eyes roving her body. Johnny’s hand against the back of her neck. Amsterdam’s mouth between her legs. 

It had been a month since she and Amsterdam had left New York for San Francisco. She’s made a little mark in the small notebook she had down from Bill with every day passed with a tiny bit of charcoal; it wasn’t that the days melded together for her, it was that the trail out of perdition seemed to be so long. According to the men working in the mining cap downriver, where Amsterdam had been grudgingly accept they were doing all right. Jenny’s saved money would get them where they needed to go. 

She twisted the little brass ring Amsterdam had given her before they had fled New York with Bill’s money, her saved money – all of the jewelry she had fenced to keep, just in case it was needed. They had enough to get them through the winter. His hope was to mine, and her hope was to establish a legitimate business in town. Between the two of them they would have a new life, baptized fresh and clean.

Fresh and clean, too, was their marriage. Amsterdam had suggested they unify their lives in the church, and so they had done, though it had been years since Jenny had knelt and made the sign of the cross in a chapel. It was not a marriage of conveniences, of contrivances and lies, though she still did not know if Amsterdam loved her. It was not a question she’d allow herself to ask – not a question she could ask. Desire they had. But did he love her, deep down?

How much did she know of this man? He was Priest Vallon’s boy; he was the leader of the Dead Rabbits. He was the man who had saved her from Bill (though she fancied that she saved herself in the end). He had beautiful friendships and could control a gang with intelligence and fearlessness. He had moved politicians and princes with his insistence and his fierceness.

What did he like to eat? What was his favorite song? Did he remember his mother as Jenny did hers? Did he like a cold room or a warm one? She had never asked. Would it be important, after what they lived through?

They hadn’t asked each other much of anything – they’d simply leapt into the situation. As she lay against the hard ground, the old quilt she brought from home draped along her middle, her hand ghosted against her belly and she thought of another matter. 

Did he want sons? Was it all right that she might not be able to give him one? Could he tolerate the notion of not carrying on the Vallon name, after having sacrificed so much for his father? 

She had never conceived since they cut the baby out of her body, held it wiggling and wet in the middle of the air, and took it off the next day to the foundling home. Would that be the only child she ever had?

Jenny tried not to ask any more questions. It would only upset Amsterdam to let him know she was concerned. Time would take care of them, their marriage. Make them legends, make them fools.

Jenny’s stomach quivered as she curled around Amsterdam under the quilt. No. She wouldn't stay quiet. She would ask him a few of these things each day, until she knew all of him. 

In spite of herself, she was excited to see what the future would bring.


End file.
